You Found Me
by Evanna Adams
Summary: Dean Winchester is the ladies' man in this latest school. But he figures he wants to be more. He wants to play football. Is it because of the sport or his favourite player?
1. Chapter 1

"Dean!" Professor Raine shouted, pointing at the freckled boy sitting at the back smirking at a girl.

"Yes, sir," he said, sparing a glance towards the teacher.

A few kids smirked and giggled.

"Stand up," the teacher commanded.

Slowly, Dean stood up and raised his eyebrow.

"Tell me the integration of sinø into cosø," Professor Raine questioned, looking positively bugged.

"Uh," Dean said, scratching his neck and smiling at a girl beside his seat who giggled and blushed.

Professor Raine looked at the exchange, merely amused.

"Sam Winchester," he said, turning on his heel.

The youngest boy in class stood up from the front, nervously.

"Can you answer my question?" Professor asked.

"Y-yes sir," Sam said. "Substituting value of cos with square root of one minus sin square and sinø with t and square root of one minus t squared with z. But of course we will have to break into intervals as we squared-"

"Good, good. Sit down," Professor said, a little surprised. "Now. I gather that you both are brothers."

Sam nodded.

Encouraged, the Professor continued, "Dean, the integration of sinø is cosø. What is the differential of cosø?"

"Negative of sinø," Sam mouthed at Dean.

"Sam, don't help your brother," Raine said, without even sparing Sam a glance.

Dean just stared right back at Raine, without saying a word.

"A week's detention with me and your Football coach will hear about this," Raine concluded, turning around to walk back to his seat.

Dean rolled his eyes and sat down. He resumed to grin at the girl sitting beside him, curling her hair on her finger and biting her lip.

Sam sat down only when Raine resumed teaching. He had tried to get Dean to study he would never listen. They anyway, changed schools every few months. He understood Dean's reasons for not doing homework. He worked extra hours to get money and even handled the house. He pushed Sam to study while their father travelled the country, looking for the man who he thought had killed their mother. It was stressful but as Dean had told him, John Winchester had been maddened by Mary's death. He was initially a cop which made his research even more rigorous.

On good days, Sam managed to feel sympathy for the old man but such days were rare. He usually felt angry. Even though he didn't know his mother, Sam was sure Mary would never want anything like this. Dean had told him about her. Her faith in angels, chicken soup and the fragrant candles she loved so much.

Dean didn't say much but Sam knew he wasn't as whole and happy as he pretended. He looked up to their father and missed their mother. Constantly stressed and working until late at the mechanics', Dean didn't have much time to talk with Sam.

"Samuel!" Professor Raine called, startling Sam. "The class has been dismissed."

Sure enough, everyone was leaving. Dean clapped Sam's shoulder, before entwining arms with a blonde girl.

Sam thanked the professor lamely and left in a rush. He shared advanced math and Political Sciences with Dean. He headed upstairs for Chemistry lab.

Dean looked longingly at the soccer field. He wanted to play. He did not understand why, though. Never once had he interested himself in sports. Not that he wasn't good, he was very good. The incident of beating the bully Harold Andrews at football always brought a smile to his face and had managed to impress every girl nationwide. It was just that sports wasted a lot of time he didn't have. He needed to take care of house, Sammy and also go to work. He couldn't just ignore that for his personal entertainment.

He sighed, leaning against the railing separating the seats from the field. His eyes followed his favourite player on the team. The lankiest fellow on the team but the best defense one had ever seen. He was a senior and two years elder to Dean. Everyone always praised the buff player, Gary White. But Dean saw right through him. His offense was weak and he was just a big old bully with a complex.

"So which player are you looking at or is it the cheerleaders?" a voice asked right beside Dean's ear.

Dean yelped and jumped away.

"Woah, there, sissy boy," the blonde girl said, rolling her eyes. "I'm here to watch the match. Everyone thinks it's because I like boys in shorts. Well, yes I do but then football is so interesting. Mom won't let me watch it on tv. She wants me to study or help her with the bar. By the way, I'm Jo. You are?"

Dean stared at the girl. She hadn't even paused to breathe.

"Not a talker, are you?" she said, turning to watch the match again. "Oh, Gary! How offensive is your offense," she cried, slapping the metal of the railing in despair.

Dean instantly liked her.

"I'm Dean," he said, trying to add a little charm to it.

"Hi, Dean," she said, distractedly.

So, she was resistant to his charm. Dean shrugged, lamely and stood beside her, following the lanky player again. With only his eyes sadly.

"They really should let girls on the team. I'd kick most of their asses. Gary really sucks. I don't understand why he's the golden boy. I'd worry about saying this aloud but I know you. You're the ladies' man here and I know for a fact that Gary doesn't know you. So, that means you won't tell him. Besides, you seem nice. Something about your eyes. I'm obviously not flirting with you because I already have a boyfriend. You see that skinny player in white? He's the best here," she said.

To Dean's delight, she pointed at the same player he was looking at.

"Do you know his name?" he asked, trying to make it seem casual.

"No," she said, not even sparing him a glance.

Dean followed her gaze back to the game.

For the next half hour, the two of them stood together, watching the game. Jo had a habit of commentating in between but Dean didn't mind. He rather enjoyed it.

As soon as the game was over, the players huddled together. Jo finally turned to look at Dean. She smiled.

"Good game, eh?" she asked.

"Yeah," Dean said, his reply delayed. He wasn't expecting her to actually let him reply.

Jo grinned. A very wide grin that lit up her face.

"Well, I gotta go," she said, standing straight. "Mom will be waiting. I have help with the bar and then also complete my homework," she said, rolling her eyes. "So same time tomorrow?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Okay," Dean said, returning the grin and handshake.

Dean stared as the skinny player got closer to the stands. He almost flailed. It was like getting a good look at your favorite celebrity. The player wasn't skinny as he looked. He actually had a little muscle packed on him. He had black messy hair and his eyes were the most beautiful blue.

The player jumped on the stands and started to walk towards the back, where Dean saw a red head sitting. She was reading a book but got up when he got closer.

"Anna," he said. His voice was low and a little gravelly.

"Finally! I thought it would take you forever," she said, exasperately, putting the book in the bag beside her.

"Well, I was practicing and I've told you, you needn't wait. I can walk back home," he said, with an edge of sympathy.

"Castiel, you are thick," she said, throwing a second bag at his chest and walking past him.

"Well, all the brains were given to my beautiful twin sister, what can I do," Castiel said, slinging an arm across her shoulders.

She just rolled her eyes.

Dean realized he was staring at them. Anna gave him a hard look while Castiel just smiled, walking past him.

_Castiel_, he thought. _Biblical_, he decided.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dean," Professor Raine called, after another pick-on-Dean class.

Dean sighed and walked to stand, in an impatient posture, in front of the old Professor.

"You need credits to pass and go to college. Now your dad maybe some hotshot like you paint him to be and you may move around a lot, which means I don't have to deal with you for long but I would like to see you pass. Son, you are smart. I know it. So, I have assigned you a tutor," Professor said, looking gravely at Dean. "I hope you will find her good enough," he added, holding out piece of paper.

Dean took it, slightly dumbstruck and wary.

"Every day, at three in the library. She's in my other class and she agreed to tutor you. She's a bright girl."

"Uh, I'm sure."

"Dean, I really expect you to be there."

"See you there."

Professor Raine sighed at Dean's retreating back.

* * *

"You want more, Sammy?" Dean asked, cracking another egg over the pan.

"No, Dean. But we're almost out of milk," Sam said, shaking the carton in his hand to hear the sploshing sound.

Dean could make out from the sound that it would fill only one glass. He needed to get groceries today. He was making omelet out of the last egg they had.

"I feel like drinking juice today, anyway," Dean said, trying to get Sam to drink the milk.

"We don't have any juice," Sam said, ducking his head to look into the whirring fridge.

He took out an empty box of juice and discarded it.

"I'll just squeeze an orange," Dean said, shrugging.

"Dean, we don't have anything," Sam said, raising his eyebrow at Dean. "Look we can share, okay? It's not like I'll be stunted if I don't drink milk."

"You're anyway too tall. Seriously, you're gonna be taller than me. I know it, Sammy," Dean told, looking at Sam like a proud parent.

Sam laughed, reddening slightly. He picked out two mismatched cups from the cupboard. After washing them, he poured equal amount of milk into both.

"You will go to the library today at three, won't you?" Sam asked, pouring ketchup on the side of plate.

"No can do. I have buy groceries today seeing we're out of everything and show my face at the garage at four and go to the bar at six," Dean said, upturning the pan over a plate.

The omelet was stuck to the pan. Dean hadn't put enough oil. He grimaced as he had to scratch the omelet off the pan. Oh well, it could pass as scrambled eggs.

"Dean," Sam said, sternly. "I'll get the groceries. You go study."

"Sammy, no. I can't send you for groceries. You have that mathlete thingy and you have homework. Just no," Dean said, shaking his head as he sat down at the table beside his brother.

Sam was almost as tall as Dean but just not as bulky… Yet.

"Dean the mathlete thing is only on Wednesdays and Fridays. Promise me you'll go study and I promise to get pie," Sam said, trying to reason with him.

"We can't exactly afford pie," Dean said, a little deflated.

"I'll make sure we can. I think we can work around a few things. Please, Dean. For me."

Dean sighed. Sam knew he had won. He grinned triumphantly at the history book in his hand.

"Sammy, stop studying at the dining table. Food is sacred, respect it."

"Dean, seriously, this table is not a dining table."

"Gosh, that wasn't even the point."

"And yet I smell success."

"No, Sammy that's the smell of bacon burning I had left there ten minutes ago!"

* * *

The red and the white caught his eye. That was it. He didn't want to. Well, he wanted to but he didn't have the time. He couldn't. He just couldn't. There was the garage and the bar. He had to get in all the money. Oh, but practices were early morning from this year. Before school… But, no! No way! He couldn't even harbor this thought.

He read it again.

_Those interested in showing off what they can do with feet, sign up here and become an absolutely awesome member of the nation's best football team._

Five to six people had already signed up.

"You thinking of signing up?" a voice issued from behind him.

He turned around, curiously. It was Jo. He realized she was a head shorter than him and had the hugest grin one could imagine.

"Hi," Dean said, cracking a smile. "Uh, no. I'm not signing up."

"Why not?" she asked, frowning as she lifted the pen to sign her name.

"Because I have work," he answered, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat.

He was rather jealous of Jo right now.

"Oh, yeah. You are singlehandedly taking care of your younger brother," Jo said.

"News travels… Uh, fast," Dean murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You have no idea," Jo said, grinning.

"Hey, didn't you say girls aren't allowed on the team?" Dean asked, remembering their conversation in the stands.

"Yes but it doesn't say anywhere on the poster so I'll argue with the coach and obviously win the argument," Jo said matter-of-factly.

Dean chuckled.

"Hey! Chuck!" Jo suddenly cried out, running towards the mousy guy in specs. "I'll see you later, Dean," she added, turning to look back at Dean.

* * *

"Hey, Missouri," Dean said to the food lady.

"Dean, m'boy," she said, using her free hand to slap his shoulder. "You keep losing weight every time I see you," she said, putting a whole lot of salad into his plate.

"You saw me yesterday, Missouri," he said with an embarrassed smile. "Besides, you know I don't eat rabbit food. That stuff is for Sammy."

"Boy, if I don't see that plate cleared up, I'm 'a whack you with a spoon!" she said, hitting a spoon against his arm.

"Alright, alright," he said, his hand clapping over his shoulder.

"Take care of yourself, honey," she said, smiling at him as moved over to grab a burger and fries.

"You too, Missouri," he called to her, heading over to the table at the very back of the room.

In previous schools, Dean dated a cheerleader and usually blended in into their table no matter how shallow and stupid they were. Here, Dean had found a couple of people he liked and hadn't even flirted with cheerleaders. Something was different about the air here.

"Hey," Tessa said, smiling at him.

The others looked up from their food.

"Hey, Dean-man," Garth said, raising his hand for Dean to high five him.

"Hi, Dean," Adam and Pamela said in unison.

"Hello Dean," Balthazar, the British exchange student, said in his beautiful British accent.

"Hey, guys," Dean said, settling into the seat between Tessa and Balthazar.

Lunch hour passed with gossip about Gabriel Harolds and Rachel Andrews, and discussion of the highly interesting football season this year. Dean was happy to hear that his friends agreed about his views on Castiel(he still wasn't used to the word even though he had repeated to himself almost a million times) and Gary.

* * *

Dean looked around at everyone sitting in the library. It was three and Dean had promised himself that he'd give up if he didn't find the tutor in sixty seconds. Forty were already over.

"Dean," a voice called from behind him. "Sorry Ms. Talbot," it added, a beat later.

Dean turned towards the sound. It was Cassie Robinson, a year younger to him and a pretty girl if he's ever seen one. She was giving an apologetic look to their librarian, Bela Talbot, a very sharp lady with an attitude.

Cassie turned to smile at him. He returned it with the most charismatic smile.

"Hey there," he said, settling into a seat beside her.

"Hi, Dean," she said, smiling. "I hope you know why we are here."

"Well, I can think of a few things."

"That's very funny, Dean. I'm your math tutor."

Dean had always known Cassie was a smart chick, the type he couldn't up and leave. But by the end of the class, he was beginning to think he might enjoy these classes.


End file.
